The rain came down in silver threads over the dark rooftops of the monastery ruins. Tiny puddles shimmered in the courtyard while a much smaller figure sat alone beneath the old stone stairs.
Young Lloyd Garmadon hugged his knees tightly against his chest.
Earlier that day, some older boys from a nearby village had cornered him near the market. At first they only laughed. Then they started shoving him around.
“Careful,” one sneered, “or he’ll summon snakes!”
Another kicked mud onto his shoes.
Lloyd tried to act brave. He really did. But when they grabbed the toy dragon Garmadon had left and had carved for him and snapped one of its wings off, something inside him crumbled.
Now he sat in the rain trying not to cry.
A gust of cold wind swept through the ruins.Then the rain suddenly stopped falling on him.
A massive shadow stood over him.
Black armor. Four powerful arms folded across his chest. Crimson eyes glowing beneath a horned helmet.
His father rarely appeared without warning. And whenever he did, the air itself seemed nervous.
Garmadon looked down at the broken toy dragon in Lloyd’s hands.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, unexpectedly gentle, Garmadon knelt.
Lloyd quickly wiped his eyes. “Nobody.”
The single word rumbled like distant thunder.
Lloyd looked away. “Some boys from the village.”
The temperature around them seemed to drop.
Garmadon’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Did they hurt you?”
Lloyd touched his cheek and winced.
Dark smoke curled from Garmadon’s armor as anger pulsed through him. The old stones beneath his boots cracked softly.
“They mocked you because you are my son,” he growled.
Then Garmadon reached out one large hand and carefully fixed the tiny broken dragon wing with surprising precision.
“You listen to me,” he said quietly.
“You choose who you become.”
The words sounded strange coming from the feared warlord of Ninjago. Even stranger because Garmadon sounded like he believed them.
Before Lloyd could answer, distant laughter echoed from the road below.
Garmadon slowly stood to his full terrifying height.
“Oh no,” Lloyd whispered.
The older boys came around the corner carrying baskets stolen from the market. Their laughter vanished instantly when they saw who stood in the courtyard.
Another nearly tripped backward.
The villain’s cape billowed behind him as he stepped forward.
One boy stammered, “W-we didn’t know he was really your kid—”
Garmadon’s voice shook dust from the walls.
Black energy crackled around his fists.
The boys looked ready to faint.
Lloyd suddenly tugged on his father’s cape. “Dad.”
Lloyd hesitated. “Master Wu says scaring people doesn’t make them better.”
Garmadon stared at him for a long moment.
Then, very slowly, the dark energy faded.
The bullies looked confused.
Garmadon crossed two arms behind his back. “If any of you touch him again…”
The boys nodded frantically.
“…you will answer to me.”
That was apparently enough motivation.
They sprinted away so fast that one lost both shoes in the mud.
Lloyd watched them disappear into the rain.
Then he looked up at his father.
“You didn’t destroy them.”
Lloyd gave a tiny laugh despite himself.
For the first time that evening, Garmadon’s expression softened.
Awkwardly—because tenderness did not come naturally to him—he placed one massive hand on Lloyd’s head.
“They fear me,” Garmadon said. “But they should never make you fear yourself.”
The rain eased into a soft drizzle around them.
“…thanks for protecting me.”
Garmadon looked away quickly, as though uncomfortable with gratitude.
“No one else is allowed to torment my son,” he muttered.
And for one quiet moment in the middle of ruined stones, rain-soaked darkness, and a world that expected monsters from both of them—
Father and son simply stood together.
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