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When Wu was small—a paltry seven years of age; a mere blip in the centuries that have been the rest of his life—his older brother was his frame of reference for everything.
The way he walked, the way he approached his problems, the way he carried himself…Wu used Garmadon as the blueprint, and he wonders to this day if Garmadon ever noticed. How Wu’s eyes would shine whenever his brother gifted him with a piece of life advice, or showed him a new way to tackle his training, or praised his improvement…
You could say it was by default, or because there’d been no one else their age around…but Wu saw Garmadon as his best friend.
His brother had such a sturdy head on his shoulders, even for such a young age. Garmadon was observant, meticulous, thorough—all the things the ever-curious and rambunctious Wu desired to copy but couldn’t quite commit himself to. And yet it was Garmadon’s steadying hand that would redirect him on the good path to follow.
(It alarms Wu now, how viciously their roles reversed)
To say everything had once been perfect would be a lie—Wu knows that while growing up, Garmadon always had a rougher edge to him, even before his soul became tainted by the bite of a snake. His outlook on life was abrasive compared to Wu’s—as Wu would always delight in the existence of all creations, Garmadon could only contemplate on their inevitable, eventual destruction.
Such mindsets manifested in their Spinjitzu—the art their father had devised, and informed them that one day they would be the keepers and protectors of the craft. Garmadon scoffed at the notion, but Wu absorbed those words into his new life’s purpose. He wished Garmadon would’ve taken the words a little more seriously—but maybe he did, in his own way.
This showed during their countless training sessions. Despite often disagreeing with their father, Garmadon still demonstrated skill and discipline. He had several years of training on Wu as well, and many times when they spared Wu felt like he was only playing catch up, as opposed to making any progress for himself. It was hard to earn praise or criticism from his father during those times.
But when Garmadon was guiding a day’s lesson, he was remarkably patient with Wu, and well-spoken, offering several pointers and notes of compliments. Wu’s heart would swell—because those little moments meant that his brother was looking out for him, wanting to see him succeed.
They had their moments of bickering, of course, especially over the smallest things. Even a single fishing trip had them squabbling over the last of the bait, and Garmadon had no shortage of scathing things to fire in Wu’s direction—”the bait’s wasted on your hook, anyway”—and Wu turned to their father for back up.
The First Spinjitzu Master had used the spar as an opportunity to instill a lesson of faith—one that Wu still carries in his heart to this day—but Garmadon clearly took the teachings in a different direction. He only scoffed at Wu who blindly cast his baitless hook into the water and held onto faith.
And, faith rewarded him with a fish.
(Bait would be wasted on his hook, indeed.)
Wu hears his father’s delighted chuckle from behind him, sending a swell of pride through him—only for it to be snuffed out when an enraged Garmadon heaves his entire fishing rod overboard. The resounding splash is punctuated by Garmadon’s sharpened cry of, “Wu always gets everything!”
(Wu would like to know exactly what things he got, given how often he was left with nothing or disappointment.)
And if that were true—if Wu always did get everything—then he wouldn’t have hesitated that sunny summer day in the courtyard of the monastery, when their father’s katana flung free of his hands and sailed away beyond the grounds.
He would’ve been the one to go get the sword.
But he feared the punishment—feared the sordid look of disappointment that would be sure to flood their father’s eyes; a mark, a blemish upon the already fragile attempts to appease him that Wu could never shake away—to a seven-year-old, that was equivalent to the end of the world.
(And back then, he’d been ignorant to what extents the end of world could reach—)
So of course it had been Garmadon—older, wiser, and more begrudging in his actions—that volunteered to get the sword in the face of Wu’s weak-willed hesitance. He takes a few steps forward, before giving Wu one last wisdom-imparting look with steadfast purple eyes—
“Do not put off until tomorrow what can be done today.”
The words ring in Wu’s ears as Garmadon drops his own sword and carries on, making his way to a place where Wu does not follow.
Garmadon climbs over the wall, vanishes beyond it, and Wu (technically) never sees him again.
Everything changes after that, and not even Wu feels like the same person he was before.
As a child, he'd been optimistic and eager, reckless and occasional overconfident (especially when it came to the dealings of snakes)...but now he's much more reserved, contemplative in his decision-making, and cautious to a fault.
Garmadon, meanwhile, has now become the headstrong one, abandoning second-thoughts in heartbeats and taking far more risks than anyone should. His care is tossed into the wind, in the worst ways possible…and, worse than that…
…it feels like their father abandoned them, around the time they became teens.
Wu never actively asks his father about it—how could he?—but the growing distance between them becomes a chasm impossible to ignore, and even more so to cross. Could it be that The First Spinjitzu Master finds his sons to be nothing more than a lost cause, or is he simply at a loss for how to handle them from there?
Wu aches for the times of his youth, where they’d be able to easily share a conversation over the morning’s brew of tea, when they’d marvel at life’s simpler surprises and contemplate the days to come, or when he’d sit and listen to his father’s own tales of his youth, inspiring Wu with the impetus to do as much for the world as he did.
But now…Wu dreads to even say hello, lest that be the wrong thing to say.
It gets to the point where their father simply sends them out on their own, disguised under the reasons of ‘needing to see the world’ and ‘perchance finding something to help Garmadon’, though all parties involved know that’s a fruitless venture. But, Wu sees the opportunity for something better at long last—and better than that, he gets to enjoy the company of his brother, without their father’s quiet, searching eyes glowering over their shoulders.
A journey with just one another might be enough of a cure to get things back to some semblance of what they once were. It might not be perfect, but it’s a step in…a direction.
Perhaps Wu’s youthful optimism hasn’t quite died yet.
Garmadon…doesn’t share the sentiment—bleak and dour about the whole thing as he is with everything lately. He only sees the ‘quest’ for its eventual futility… but with Wu’s persistent goading, Wu makes a glimmer of something dance in Garmadon’s eyes, and for the first time in a long time, they’re on the same page about something.
Wu finds solace in that one comfort as the teens head out to face the world.
The journey doesn’t really change them—and perhaps not to the degree their father had been hoping for—but, Wu did become privy to new perspectives on Garmadon. He could see the insecurities breaking through the cracks of the veneer Garmadon otherwise preferred to cloak himself in. He could see that Garmadon does still care underneath it all, tempted though he otherwise is, and even how much the venom truly eats away at his mind…
Wu never gets to know what Garmadon thinks of him, however. Though, that may be for the best.
But upon returning home, now young adults in the apparent prime of their lives…their father hadn't greeted them with open arms. Instead, there’d been a hollow, vapid expression across his face, and Wu dreaded to ask what it had meant. Garmadon only sneered and returned to his room to reflect on the years’ adventures—probably glad he’d avoided some uncomfortable conversation with their father—while Wu pondered what the future held in store.
He had at least hoped that he and Garmadon would’ve bonded, and that could’ve served as a foundation for improving their relationship—but was it their failure at finding a cure that spurned Garmadon further, or was the return of the reminders of everything Garmadon couldn’t avoid?
Wu tries to ask once—he regrets it when Garmadon’s eyes surge with red and destructively tells him off. Thus, he doesn’t try that again.
It almost felt like their journey hadn’t mattered at all, though Wu still cherishes the time with his brother for what it was. It wasn’t a return to form from those innocent times in their childhood…but, it had been nice. Wu cherishes the memory fondly.
Yet Garmadon causes no significant trouble beyond that one altercation—which Wu mentally twists into interpreting it as his own fault—so Wu makes the mistake of thinking things may be fine from now on…
Dinners are quiet and awkward, trainees for Spinjitzu and the Elemental Alliance come and go, and Wu doesn’t really see any of his family anymore…but there’s a sense of normalcy about it, at least. Which leads Wu to making another of many, many more mistakes to come; he grows complacent.
One unassuming night, the First Spinjitzu Master summons Wu to his chambers.
…the amount of fear Wu wields is uncontested. What mistake had he made now? Where had he gone wrong this time? What had been so disappointing that his father would need him for a private meeting in the witching hours…?!
Wu wishes he didn’t have to be alone for this—wishes his brother would be here beside him, even if only as a last line of protection. Not that his father would ever hurt him, but the weight of equal parts responsibility and pending disappointment he dropped on Wu’s shoulders every time they had a confrontation would be enough to crush him just the same.
Still. Wu’s not brave enough to disobey his father’s requests either, so down the hall he goes.
Every step causes the floorboards beneath his feet to creak in protest, as if deterring him from entering his father’s chambers. Every muscle in his body stiffens, internally urging him to not go any farther; his very soul knows he’s not going to like what’s in store for him.
(And maybe he should have listened to the beckoning of the universe.)
Wu approaches the door with a reluctant knock; his father’s soft voice invites him in. Wu tentatively enters, finding his father’s back to him (as it often is). Taking a deep breath, Wu sits himself on the far side of the incense his father had set up. He lets the fragrance invade his nostrils, granting him some invisible courage, and speaks.
“Father, what’s all this?”
“…Wu, my son…there’s something I have to tell you.”
And, for the first time in what feels like centuries, the First Spinjitzu Master spins around to face his son.
The first thing that hits Wu is how exhausted he looks. His father always seems so larger than life, and invincible…that to see him like this is wrong.
...Had he been sick?! Had he been hiding some illness?! Or had he been fighting off some evil behind their backs, a threatening problem kept all to himself—?!
Either way, all of Wu’s reservations sail out the window, and it takes everything in Wu to not to leap over the incense between them and take his father into an embrace.
“F-Father—!”
“At ease, my son.” The elder man holds up a hand to assuage Wu’s worries. Wu’s face still twists up with concern, but he stays his tongue. “I’m sure you have a great many questions, but time is not on our side…I have many matters to discuss with you.”
A sting of anger surges through Wu—if this was so important, then why did he wait so long to share?! Why is he about to dump a bunch of bad news on him all at once?! And if there was some problem, then wouldn’t it have been better to say so sooner, or not all at once—!
“There’s a proper timing for everything, Wu,” his father says as if reading his mind. As far as Wu knows, maybe he can. “It may take many years for you to understand, but one day, you will thank me for sparing you for as long as I have.”
“…mph.” Wu’s far too old to be pouting, but it stumbles out of him anyway. His father chuckles in endearment, and Wu laments how much he’s missed the sound.
But he tries to keep himself in one piece. There’s too much going through his head right now to want to do otherwise.
“You said there wasn’t much time, Father. Speak your piece, for I am listening.”
“...yes, right.” The brief bit of levity fades from the First Spinjitzu Master, and seriousness settles back upon his own face. “…as I’ve told you in the past, you are designated to inherit the legacy and responsibilities I should one day leave behind…though you have no obligation to accept, there is no one else I could ask this of.”
“I-” It’s only a few sentences, but there’s so much weight behind those few words. There’s so much to keep track of—the Alliance, the Monastery, the world at large, his brother… “Have you…told these same things to Garmadon? Have you made him promise the same? Why wouldn’t this be something we do together; as two halves of a whole…as your sons?”
At this, the FSM’s face falls, and that ragged exhaustion haunts his expression once again.
“There will come a day when the darkness within Garmadon will be more than he can withstand. And I…just want you to be prepared for that. Your brother has a strong will, but that strong will of his, one day, will be made into his downfall.”
He hands Wu a set of three things— a parchment depicting the prophecy of the Green Ninja, a set of robes engraved with silver words in the tongues of old…and the staff his father always took everywhere with him.
The FSM stands without the aid of his cane, strong yet fragile in equal parts.
“…you’ll be needing these things more than I will, my son.”
“H-Huh?!” Wu’s head snaps up, ignoring the gifts to gaze up into his father’s eyes, searching for some kind of answer of what all this is supposed to mean. “Father…are you…leaving?”
Wu watches his father cast his gaze away, expression unreadable. “I must go somewhere where you cannot follow, my beloved child. I leave the monastery, the Golden Weapons, the teachings of Spinjitzu, and the peace of the world in your hands.”
Wu swallows—he’d always had a feeling that a day like this would come, but now that it’s here, so abruptly, so dramatically…he’s scared. And it’s not like he can say no to this—who else in the world would ever say yes?!
“…will you come back? From where it is you’re going?” Wu sniffles, refusing to let himself cry. Deep down, he knows the answer, but still he foolishly hangs onto hope. Even when his father puts a comforting hand upon his head.
“…if we are meant to meet again, then we will. Have faith, remember?”
Wu sniffles again, and this time can’t stop the sobs from breaking free of him. “O-Okay…”
“I know you’ll make me proud. There is no one else I’d rather leave my legacy to.”
His father makes sure to tell Wu how much he loves him, vanishes beyond the door, and Wu never sees him again.
It’s bizarre, Wu thinks, how… tame Garmadon becomes, once their father was…no longer around. Sure, he’d been outraged at first when Wu informed him of their father’s departure, but quickly that disgust turned into…a regretful sort of relief. It’s a sight that fills Wu with a deep sadness, yet understanding in equal parts.
The Garmadon of old no longer persists—Wu’s made peace with that much, though he swears he sees the return in glimpses and stolen moments, but always under a veil of darkness Wu can never pull him away from. Most of his attempts to reach out are smacked away by Garmadon’s own hand in the first place, but he never gives up trying, because he knows there’s something in there to save.
But Wu’s not sure if he’s the one strong enough to do so.
So, in the meantime, he supports Garmadon as best he can. Tries to keep him up to speed with the Elemental Alliance, treats him like the brother and best friend Wu still believes he is, asks for his opinion and input on all their affairs, and if he can look past the growled complaints or vacant stares or sudden bouts of violence…he can pretend like the venom isn’t there at all.
But Garmadon has never been fond of playing pretend.
“…I feel like I should leave,” Garmadon says one day, spoken over a bout of an afternoon tea. The words shoot a dagger through Wu’s heart, and he attempts to play it off with a nervous chuckle.
“Is my tea really that terrible?” He jokes weakly. Garmadon grunts through his nose, thoroughly unamused, but keeps his disposition even. They both know that Garmadon has never been fond of the taste of tea, no matter who makes it. Even still, Garmadon sips gingerly at the brew Wu offered him regardless.
“…these dark powers within me…these urges…if I could find a way to contain them, or control them…perhaps that could be enough.”
“You’ve done a good job so far,” Wu says. “If you just keep doing what you’re doing…”
“No, I want to make a permanent change.” Garmadon white-knuckles his grip around his teacup. Wu can sense the strain of the porcelain, and fears for the tea within. “And if this Master Chen is familiar with…darker dealings, then that could put me one step closer to understanding myself.”
“…I will support any decision you make,” Wu assures, as much as he’d selfishly prefer Garmadon to stay. “I only worry that this potential new master of yours wouldn't have your best interests at heart…anyone with that sort of dark knowledge…should be approached with caution.”
“Hmph.” Garmadon takes another begrudging sip of his tea. “Then the same could be said of me, I suppose.”
“I don’t believe that,” Wu says sternly, uncompromising in his position. Garmadon flinches at how resolute he sounds. “You and I, we represent each end of the balance Father worked so hard to preserve—there will always be a bit of light in you, just as there will be a bit of darkness in me.”
Wu inhales, taking in the aroma of the tea, even as he feels Garmadon’s stare burrows into him.
“I’ve always taken solace in that fact. In a way, it means we’ll always carry each other with us, no matter how bright you believe I will shine, or how deep into darkness you believe you will plunge.”
Garmadon doesn’t respond immediately, tracing his finger around the rim of his cup. Wu sees his brother's shoulder slump in resignation.
“With that logic, you could insist that the color black is nothing more than the darkest shade of white,” Garmadon huffs.
Wu chuckles under his breath. “Well, perhaps it is.”
“It’s a foolhardy thought,” Garmadon presses, scowling at the reflection in his tea. “For then white must be the lightest tint of black. And you, Wu…do not have a single dark stain upon your soul.”
Wu takes a long sip of his own cup. “...So says you.”
“I know so. ...especially if you insist upon comparing your soul to mine.” Garmadon rises to his feet, abandoning his unwanted drink and stretching his arms high to the sky. “…but I will keep your words in my thoughts during my travels. May they bring me some peace of mind in my weaker moments.”
Wu lets him take a few steps away, before whispering into wind,
“I just want you to remember…you’ve always got a place to return to here, with me.”
Garmadon pauses within the doorway. Quieter, Garmadon says, “I know.”
Wu lets him go—for Garmadon needs to do this, if only for himself…but, Wu knows he’ll return. And, with luck, he’ll be a better man for it.
In the meantime, he holds down the fort back at the monastery. He takes to studying the prophecy of the Green Ninja a little deeper, losing sleep over trying to decipher if the ‘Dark Lord’ depicted is meant to be his brother…but, he pushes the notion out of his mind. There’s no way his brother would ever turn that bad.
(Denial, denial, denial.)
Instead, he distracts himself by keeping himself busy with the duties his father tasked him with. He maintains the realm’s peace, trains new Spinjitzu Masters, and watches students come and go from his care…
And there’s one in particular that catches Wu’s eye.
Not just because he first finds this child rummaging around in his trash (though that alone pulls at his heartstrings a bit), but it also turns out that this child—he’s an inheritor of the Element of Wind.
A rarer element, to be sure…and, with such prowess at such a young age…he even stands to be in the running to become the legendary Green Ninja.
The child doesn’t have a name, so Wu gifts one the child happens to like: Morro.
Morro doesn’t exactly fill the void Garmadon left behind, but he absorbs some of the loneliness that would have consumed Wu otherwise. Wu once made it a point to not grow too attached to any of the students that come into his care, for not many of them stay after their training…but he breaks his own rule with this one. He can’t put a finger on it, but Morro is special.
He tells Morro as much during his training, even going so far as to fill him with the hopes of one day becoming the Green Ninja. Wu can see it all in his mind’s eye—he and Morro, confronting the prophecy as his father once foretold, and keeping the world safe from the ultimate evil…in whatever form it would take.
And Morro eats up that narrative as well, to the point that it feeds into his training. His raw strength was already impressive, but the more Wu helps him hone it, the more that strength and those powers could turn lethal if not carefully monitored. And Wu bears witness to it—the way Morro casts those he trains with aside like they’re nothing but obstacles towards his true destined path, demanding for harder challenges for the one deigned to be the Green Ninja…
...It then dawns on Wu that perhaps he’d been wro— ...overly ambitious about Morro.
He tries gently to bring him down from that precarious ledge; but Morro wouldn’t hear any of it. If anything, Morro's temperament only grew worse any time Wu tried to wane him off the ideals. Morro took each attempt as a stab to the back, and to hear such words of vitriol pour out of the boy who’d Wu had taken to seeing as a sort of son…the proverbial knife would twist deeper and deeper.
It gets to the point where Wu has to bring the four Golden Weapons before Morro, just as the prophecy decreed. But regardless of whether Morro was worthy or not—whether this was the destiny meant for him—the weapons refused to react, for his disposition more than proved he wouldn’t have been ready to wield the title regardless.
Morro’s outraged reaction further proved that point.
Wu gives him some time to calm down before trying to talk it over with him—but when he enters the room with snacks and a peace offering, his heart sinks in his chest when he finds Morro gone.
His kid disappears beyond the monastery gates, vanishing into the winds of an unforgiving night, and Wu never sees that boy alive again.
(…Garmadon returns a few moons later, and asks if he’d missed anything major. Wu tells him that he hasn’t.)
That crushing blow pushes Wu to reinforce his stance on not growing attached to his students, now having lived through what he considers to be the worst case scenario. He works his students with rigid discipline and a degree of detachment, working to prevent that tragedy from ever happening again.
…a select few still slip through the cracks over the years, however: such as the young blonde Lightning Master, the elderly Master of Ice, the stoic and closed-off Master of Earth and his daughter, and the current Masters of Fire and Water—two particular favorites of Wu, but he’d never say that aloud, lest he tempt the universe into tormenting him once again.
But then word of a war with the Serpentine arises, and Garmadon rushes home. Wu’s never been more relieved to see him, and hugs him as tightly as he’s able.
Maybe Garmadon's time away did do some good, as for a glorious, fleeting moment in time, it now feels like old times. They don’t have to walk around eggshells around each other, they joke and train with one another…and Wu, for a change, has no reason to fear his brother.
It’s true that Garmadon's eyes grow redder by the day, his skin loses its color, and his temperament seems sharper than ever…but despite the unsettling traits, Garmadon’s never been more like himself.
…although Wu doubts it was anything that Chen did that caused it. No, Wu fears he may have to attribute the real reason for a Garmadon’s improvement to …Misako.
For it was hard not to love her.
…and that made it easy to understand why Garmadon loved her too.
She’d arrived in a huff when the Serpentine Wars first began to stir up, arms full of old text books and scrolls with information or any other whisperings she thought might help. She brought not only helpful knowledge to the table, but strength as well—Wu had managed to teach her Spinjitzu faster and better than any student before her, and she hadn’t even been an Elemental Master.
Between pouring over books, swapping stories over tea, pushing each other to the limits during training, and simply taking joy in the other’s presence…Wu couldn’t help but believe that the universe had been kind enough to put someone as amazing as her in his path.
It just, inadvertently, had put her in Garmadon’s path as well.
For as well as he and Misako got on, Wu wasn’t blind to the strange, secret, silent language the duo had with each other. The private smiles they’d trade as they passed in the halls, the way they’d venture wordlessly into the library and disappear for hours, and when they’d sit beside each other at dinner laughing at some inside joke they shared… Wu wouldn’t count himself a jealous person, but… he was jealous.
One part of him was pleased at the sight—it was about time that Garmadon had proof that there could, would, and should be something good in his life—that he was capable of love and being loved, and Wu couldn’t think of a more perfect person to show Garmadon that truth.
…but by his father, did it have to be with the one person Wu had fallen in love with?!
Every stolen moment of Wu’s with Misako makes him feel guilty, as if he’s sabotaging his own brother’s happiness. But every time he sees them off on their own, something dark and unseemingly festers within his chest, and—it’s a terrible feeling.
(He did once say he must have a darkness within him—he never would’ve guessed this is the form it would take.)
He’s fought for his brother’s happiness for so long…and now, the one thing that will help him achieve that cause comes at the sacrifice of Wu’s own.
Garmadon finally felt like Wu’s brother again, and Wu would be a fool to throw something that precious to him out the window.
…yet was the love of his brother worth the sacrifice of losing the love of his life?!
Selfishly, Wu sits himself down one day, determined to find a solution to this horrible conundrum—as ultimately, the choice resided with Misako.
He writes a single letter, bleeding his heart out onto the page in one last attempt to sway Misako’s eye onto him once and for all. It breaks him, to even attempt to take away this one good thing from Garmadon…but should Wu just roll over and allow a chance at his own happiness to walk away? Especially when he knows…it may be the last time he’ll even have a chance?
So, he has to try. He’ll throw his last line with this thin bit of bait into these uncertain waters, and come what will, he’ll accept it. For all their sakes.
He trusts in faith.
He sends the letter. He waits for weeks.
And weeks later, when the war is over, the Alliance dissolves, and peace spreads across the lands…Misako announces that she and Garmadon are due to be wed.
And that settles that.
(“Wu always gets everything”—what a magnificently persistent lie. )
Wu has endured so much pain as a protector of the lands—but this is a horrid agony he wouldn’t wish on his greatest enemy. Surely whatever dark ailments plague Garmadon, that currently lie dormant in the afterglow of his honeymoon…it cannot feel any worse than this.
But, Wu can live with this. At least he’ll still be close to Misako, though he’s doomed to only admire her from a distance now… and he’ll get to see his brother in a better light, like he’s always wanted.
He might feel like a third wheel in this family now, but…at least he has his family.
And if there’s one thing that makes all that residual pain worth it…it’s the opportunity to get to hold his precious baby nephew for the first time, a scant few years later.
He's something good that Garmadon had a chance to create; something Garmadon swore he’d never be able to do… and now, Wu couldn’t be more proud of him. Any animosity from before evaporates away in the face of that tiny new life.
Because of little Lloyd, the proof that life will always find a way to persist, Wu can find comfort in the fact things turned out this way. He’s something pure, something untainted, something miraculous, something that proved Garmadon’s hand was meant for more than malice…
Having a broken heart was worth it to be mended by such a powerful, unconditional love.
…that is, until Misako makes the connection that it is this child who is destined to be the Green Ninja.
Of course, it’s the moment Wu gets complacent that everything chooses to fall apart. A peace he hadn’t known was so fragile breaks apart in his hands, and all the pieces are too sharp and jagged for him to hang onto without making him bleed. They slip through his fingers just as time does—everything spirals out of control so quickly and Wu swears he loses his mind in the process—
The following nights are suddenly full of sweeping shouting matches, with Garmadon’s voice turning more monstrous with every debate over what to do about Lloyd’s fate. Doors slam, walls shake, and no matter what soothing words Wu offers to both of them in an attempt to placate the situation, the two of them hear nothing of it. Wu’s at his most helpless at these times.
There’s points where Wu is the only one left to swaddle baby Lloyd and hold him close, hoping the softness of his robes and the warmth of his chest is enough to drown out the raging verbal war his parents fight…along with the truth of what he’ll one day grow up to have to do.
Sometimes, Wu swears he cries himself to sleep more than Lloyd does.
He’s the Master of Creation, and everything is being destroyed around him—why is there nothing he can do, beyond provide fleeting comforts?! Why is it that he could never create a better outcome for himself and those he loves—?!
But one day, in the dead of the night, a fear-stricken and tear-stricken Misako takes her baby from Wu. She hardly lets an apology spill from her lips before she leaves. Garmadon is nowhere to be found either. Wu never does get the chance to learn what the breaking point between them was—only that it was reached.
She has Wu’s blessing, as much as Wu’s heart screams out in protest—although more so for Lloyd’s sake than anyone else's, and that thought alone fills him with a bone-achingly deep sorrow.
Misako takes her son away, vanishes somewhere into the dark corridors of the monastery, and intends for Wu to never see her again.
It’s hardly a year later when Wu wakes up from a cold sleep, and needs nothing but the sheer chill of dread coursing through him to know that this is it— the day he’s feared in the depths of his subconscious since he was a child.
The current time is lost on him—it could be dawn, dusk, or twilight—but the raging storm outside blots it all out and creates a scene beyond time itself. The setting of this confrontation is sucked into a vacuum of its own making—a clash destined to only be privy to those involved.
A battle between brothers.
His limbs shaking, Wu stumbles out of bed, hardly able to grab the nearest set of black-and-white robes before whisking himself into the halls. He’s plagued both by urgency and hesitation—he knows he cannot linger; he fears what it is he will find.
He can barely carry himself onward, pushed forward only by the way heckling, borderline demonic laughter echoes throughout the otherwise empty building. It’s like something straight out of a nightmare—and in Wu’s case, it’s one of his worst.
He makes it to the room where the four Golden Weapons were once prominently and proudly displayed upon the common room wall.
Two of the weapons are safe.
Two have found their way into Garmadon’s clutches.
It’s been some time since he’d last seen Garmadon; Wu stills knows not what dark and horrid places his brother must’ve hidden himself away at in the meantime, or why he’d scampered off in the first place…but wherever it had been, and for whatever reasons, it certainly hadn’t done him any good. Not this time.
Garmadon’s a wisp of his former self now, both physically and in disposition—and traces of the kind, respectable person Wu once had to squint to see within him have now all but gone up in smoke. Had the venom finally hit its peak with him, or had losing his son just pushed him to the breaking point…? In either case, now isn’t the time to ask, for a serrated grin of jagged teeth crosses Garmadon’s face, one that betrays nothing but ill-intent.
Wu inhales, tightening his grip on their father’s staff, as if it’ll grant him some kind of extra protection.
"I'm afraid those are for display only," Wu declares, stabbing his staff out towards Garmadon.
He swallows down the quivering in his words when Garmadon whirls to face him, his brother’s eyes blood-red with unwavering malice. Garmadon smiles with a grin that looks crooked upon his face; Wu represses a shudder.
"Oh really?” The Nunchucks of Lightning and Sword of Fire hang limply in Garmadon’s grip. “Tell me then, what good is a weapon if all it's used for is collecting dust?!"
"Don't be a fool!" Wu hisses, defensive and self-righteous in the same breath. He doesn't know where this surge of once-buried emotion comes from, but he’ll take it, if it means he can fight his way through this conversation without having a breakdown. "Father warned us that their power is beyond any one man but himself—"
"Father was the fool!!!”
Wu flinches when Garmadon drives the sword at him, his eyes bloodshot as they widen with intensity. Snarling, Wu thrust his staff right back at his brother.
"How dare you speak so lowly of Father?! We made him a promise…and these weapons shall not leave this monastery!"
“I made no such promise,” Garmadon grits through his teeth—and Wu wilts at the fact that this must be true, precisely because of the situation they’re in right here and now. Or, maybe, the situation exists because their father hadn't talked to Garmadon. Wu still thinks the outcome would have been same anyway. "Thus, I shall destroy this monastery…and all who stand in my way!"
And when Garmadon flings a plume of fire that burns their father’s staff into two pieces…that’s when Wu knows this battle has turned into life or death.
The ricocheted blast knocks the Scythe of Quakes and the Shuriken of Ice off the wall; they skid across the floor into Wu’s reach. Wu abandons the broken pieces of the staff—now representative of Garmdon’s broken promise with their father—and takes up the other two weapons, giving him equivalent might to Garmadon.
Garmadon launches himself, swinging the sword downwards; Wu barely has the sense to block with the scythe. The metallic clang that rings out is timed with the stopping of his heart. Terror floods Wu’s eyes; there’s only gleeful disdain in Garmadon’s.
There’s no time for Wu to even dwell on how sickening this whole situation is. All he can do is fend for his life, battering back against Garmadon’s attacks that will kill if given the chance. Does he want the weapons that badly?! Does he truly think getting his hands on them is going to solve all his problems?!
One hard thrust with the Scythe of Quakes is enough to—accidentally—send Garmadon flying through the wall, launching him out into the courtyard. Wu’s chest heaves with the effort, his arms shaking from the amount of strength that took out of him.
He only wanted to create some distance between him and his brother—but Garmadon continues to put even more space between them, although in the metaphorical sense.
“Put those weapons down!” It’s a miracle Wu’s voice doesn’t break with emotion. He keeps the Scythe outstretched in case Garmadon attempts any other underhanded tricks, trying to maintain the high ground while Garmadon is spread out upon the cobblestone.
“You mean like this?!”
Garmadon again swings at Wu relentlessly—clang after clang ringing out with the collision of their weapons. It’s all Wu can do to fend him off; he can’t…he can't bring himself to attack his brother back. It’s wrong, he shouldn't, even if it's in self-defense…fighting like this …it’s not what their father wanted!
And it’s definitely not what Wu wants!
“Please, Brother–!” Wu begs desperately over the clash of their instruments. He tries to appeal to any remaining shred of good that must exist within his brother—it’s the only chance he has left. “It doesn’t have to be like this…! It’s not too late! Surrender now, and I will gladly welcome you back with open arms, please—!”
“Is that the best offer you have for me?!” Garmadon mockingly spits the words, bitter and scathing in equal measure. “Is that truly all you want to ask of me–?!”
“No! I just want my brother back!” Wu cries, all the emotions he’d been harboring until now spilling out at once. It’s raw, it’s sad, it’s angry at the world, and it’s the truth. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted!”
“...and what I want, more than anything in this moment—” Garmadon swings with both weapons, forcing Wu to block with both of his. “—is to finally be rid of you!”
The four weapons connect as one, igniting a spark that drives them apart with great force. The duo go sailing to opposite sides of the courtyard—the earth cracks, the weapons grow hot to the touch, the air turns chilling, and a bout of thunder roars across the sky…and it’s a miracle that both brothers are still in one piece, after drawing the weapons together like that.
As Wu picks himself up, heart lodged in his throat, he makes the horrid realization:
“Garmadon does not care if he kills me.”
And, there's a very real chance he may die tonight.
With his vision bleary from exhaustion and tears, a ragged Wu looks up to find Garmadon having clawed his way back to his feet, dragging the Sword of Fire along the cobblestone and creating a grating, screeching sound against the ears. The sky darkens behind him as more claps of thunder ring in a storm; Garmadon’s own expression turns tumultuous with each passing second.
Garmadon doesn’t even hesitate when he lifts the sword, more than prepared to plunge it into his defenseless little brother. Wu’s eyes shake, the vision of the sword burning into his mind, and body too weary and shell-shocked to move himself out of the way.
He’s thoroughly defeated, from the inside out.
"Goodbye, Brother…" drones form Garmadon’s lips, only uttered as an afterthought.
“Garmadon!” Paralyzed with fear, there's nothing more Wu can do than plead once again. Even now, he clutches onto his ideals of faith. “Do not do this…!”
…but that’s when the writing on his robe begins to glow in a brilliant white light, and Wu realizes he’d grabbed the garb that his father had gifted him so many years ago. He hadn’t even remembered moving it anywhere within his reach; it's like some supernatural force put it right in his hand, just when he needed it…
…and now, right now, it grants him even further protection in his lowest hour.
Before Wu’s very eyes, the sky divides itself into two and throws down a single bolt of lightning with precise aim. It meets where Garmadon has the sword raised on high, shooting down its length into Garmadon’s arm, and tearing through his entire body. Wu watches in abject horror as Garmadon’s body now matches the disposition once held within—his crimson eyes now practically glow against the darkness of his charred skin, his clothes burned to tatters and exposing his ribcage.
And if that wasn’t enough, the ground beneath them cracks apart as well, leaving an agonized, pained, and stumbling Garmadon to teeter off over the edge into oblivion.
…and even after everything, Wu still lunges for his brother, hand reaching out in a hopeless attempt to save him from an unavoidable fate—at attempt to stop himself from losing his brother to total darkness—for even now, Wu knows there has to be something to save.
There has to be; there has to be…!
All his unconditional love couldn't have been for nothing…!
But his brother once more slips through Wu’s fingers, and Wu wails in agony long into the night that follows.
Garmadon’s screams echo upwards as he descends into the hellish land of the Underworld, vanishing through a portal colored in the darkest shade of white…and Wu’s not so foolish to think that they won’t meet again.
(...but he’s got a long time to wait.)
It feels like forever, when Wu finally gets to lay eyes upon Lloyd Garmadon once again.
He hates to say it—hates even more to privately think it—but the boy is the spitting image of his father. The sharp angle of his eyes, the budding fangs that hide in his mouth, the maddening cackle he spouts in moments of glee, the slightly pointed ears, the unbridled ambition to get what he wants, right down to the robes and cape he dares to wear, all colored in the darkest shade of white…
The boy currently sleeps in the spare bedroom on the Bounty, having recently been pried from Pythor’s clutches and read a bedtime story that will hopefully have him rethink ever mingling with an ill-intentioned snake again. Wu's heart aches for all the time and opportunities missed for spending with his nephew—but from this moment on, there'll never be another moment spared. That's one promise he will keep—and with his dying breath, if he must.
Wu puts a hand against the boy’s head, ruffling his hair in a smooth gesture. Lloyd makes a face in his sleep, but doesn't stir otherwise—in fact, it seems like he shimmies closer to the source of comfort. And that…just breaks Wu’s heart all over again.
This child will never know just how much his parents loved him—loved him so much to the point that they both were driven into making drastic decisions they could never come back from…not that Wu isn’t a stranger to making any himself. One day, he hopes to change that.
But Wu looks upon Lloyd, and in the brilliant, lively green of his eyes…he sees the color of life, the color of the connections he manifests with everyone he meets…and Wu sees the color of hope and faith itself.
He sees the ability of this child to do all the things Wu wishes he could have.
And also in that boy, Wu sees the perseverance of the promises he made to his father; he sees the chance to nurture a kind, loving, forgiving hero whereas he couldn’t with his long-lost son; he sees the strength, curiosity, and unrelenting tenacity of the love of his life…
….and, almost most significantly—even as Garmadon himself vanishes farther and farther from who he used to be—
…within Lloyd, he sees the best of his brother once again.