Chapter 56

Lloyd POV

As the evening air hung heavy with the scent of garbage, I turned to Alex, my companion in this covert operation. With a casual tone masking the urgency of my thoughts, I voiced a simple request.

"Alex, can you help me put the trash in the dumpster?" I asked, my words betraying none of the weight they carried.

Without hesitation, Alex bid a swift farewell to the women who surrounded him, their presence a fleeting distraction from the task at hand. As he joined me by the door, I handed him a hefty garbage bag, its weight a tangible reminder of the secrets we carried.

Together, we stepped into the dimly lit alleyway, the night shrouding our movements in a cloak of darkness. The low hum of distant traffic provided a backdrop to our clandestine mission as we made our way toward the waiting dumpster.

With practiced efficiency, we disposed of our burdens, the soft thud of trash echoing in the stillness of the night. But as Alex moved to retreat back into the safety of the building, I halted his progress with a firm grip on his shoulder.

"Not so fast, Alex," I interjected, my voice laced with a sense of urgency that belied the mundane task at hand. "There's something I need to discuss with you about the organization."

His reaction was palpable, a visible flinch at the mere mention of the organization. We both knew the consequences of discussing such matters outside the confines of our designated spaces—punishments swift and severe, administered without mercy.

But I pressed on, determined to breach the unspoken barrier between us. With a reassuring tone, I sought to allay his fears, assuring him of our relative safety within the confines of our current location.

"Don't worry, Alex," I reassured, my voice a hushed whisper. "This place is safe, shielded from prying eyes. Here, we can speak freely, away from the watchful gaze of our superiors."

Though the night enveloped us in its cloak of secrecy, I couldn't shake the gnawing sense of unease that lingered in the back of my mind. With each passing moment, the weight of our conversation bore down on us, the unspoken truths hanging heavy in the air.

"How long were you in the organization?" I asked. "You said you join due to your brother."

As the weight of my question settled between us, Alex's expression shifted from casual indifference to a furrowed brow of contemplation. His response came with a hint of defensiveness, as if my inquiry had struck a chord he wasn't prepared to confront.

"About a year and a half," he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of his experiences within the organization. "Why are you asking?"

The urgency in my tone betrayed the gravity of my next question, a question that demanded clarity in the face of uncertainty.

"Did you ever have a mission that involved the killing of an innocent person?" I pressed, my words hanging heavy in the air between us, thick with unspoken implications.

Alex's initial confusion morphed into a flicker of irritation, his brows furrowing as he struggled to make sense of my inquiry. His response was swift, tinged with a hint of indignation.

"What are you talking about?" he retorted, his tone edged with frustration. "The Order of Assassins only kill corrupted people who could be a threat for Ninjago. Do we look like we could be brought?"

His attempt to dismiss my concerns only fueled my determination to uncover the truth. I reached out, physically stopping him from leaving, my grip firm as I held him in place.

"Of course not," I agreed, my voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within me. "But Pluto's first mission involves the hit of a child under the age of ten."

As the gravity of my revelation sank in, Alex's disbelief was palpable. His features contorted with a mixture of shock and disbelief, his mind struggling to reconcile the image of the Order of Assassins he had known with the unsettling truth I had just revealed.

"We don't kill children!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of horror and disbelief. "We never harm innocent people!"

With a heavy heart, I nodded in agreement, silently acknowledging the shattered illusions of righteousness that had once cloaked the organization we served.

"The hit is going to happen tomorrow," I informed him, my words a somber acknowledgment of the grim reality we faced. "It looks like the Order of Assassins isn't as pure as you thought."

As Alex slumped against the hotel wall, his expression weighed down by the gravity of our conversation, I joined him, settling in beside him with a sense of determination pulsing through my veins. It was clear that while doubt may have clouded his mind, his loyalty to his brother and his ideals burned bright within him.

"What are we going to do about this?" I inquired, my voice tinged with urgency. "We're not going to let them continue this, are we?"

With a resolute glint in his eyes, Alex met my gaze, his determination unwavering. "No, we're not," he affirmed, his tone firm and unwavering. "I'm not letting my brother's belief get crushed by a few power-loving fools."

His conviction bolstered my own resolve, and a plan began to take shape in my mind. Leaning closer, I outlined my proposal, each word laced with a steely determination.

"Why don't we take out the leader and replace him as the head?" I suggested, my voice low but brimming with confidence. "We can remove that corrupted leader and anyone who follows in his footsteps."

Alex considered my proposal carefully, his brow furrowing in contemplation. "That's going to be quite difficult," he admitted, his voice tinged with a note of caution. "There are a lot of skilled assassins who follow the leader. It'll be us against the entire organization."

But I was undeterred, my mind already racing ahead to the possibilities that lay before us. "There will be an opportunity," I revealed, a spark of determination igniting within me. "There will be a mission that requires most of the assassins to go out. We can take him out then, without much resistance."

Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, I offered him a small, encouraging smile. "Don't worry about the remaining assassins," I assured him. "I'll handle them."

"The moment the assassins leave for their mission," I explained, my voice steady and resolute. "That's when we'll strike. We're going to fix this rotten core and purify it, once and for all."

…

Heroes POV

Noah gripped the reins of his dragon, Kaida, his heart pounding in his chest as they soared through the tumultuous skies, pursued relentlessly by the menacing mechanical dragon. Each beat of Kaida's wings sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through Noah's veins, his mind racing to formulate a plan of escape.

With a swift maneuver, Noah urged Kaida to veer sharply to the left, narrowly avoiding another volley of attacks from their relentless pursuer. The roar of flames and the sharp crackle of electricity filled the air as the mechanical dragon unleashed its arsenal, each strike a deadly reminder of the peril they faced.

"Use what you've learned on Kaida," his uncle's voice cut through the chaos, a steady anchor amidst the storm. "It will make him more enduring, more resilient."

Noah's brows furrowed in confusion as he turned to his uncle, his mind grappling with the concept presented to him. "I made Kaida up," he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I created him based off the design of the four dragons that were protecting the Golden Weapons. How can I put feeling into him when there wasn't any?"

His uncle regarded him with a patient expression, understanding the challenge Noah faced. "Feelings aren't just born from experience, Noah," he explained, his tone gentle yet firm. "They can be imbued into our creations through our intentions, our desires, and our willpower."

Noah mulled over his uncle's words, a sense of realization dawning within him. He had poured his hopes, his aspirations, and his determination into Kaida, shaping the dragon with an unwavering vision of strength and resilience. Perhaps, in doing so, he had inadvertently infused his creation with a spark of life, a flicker of emotion that transcended mere existence.

"I see," Noah murmured, a glimmer of understanding illuminating his features. "So, it's not about what already exists, but what we choose to create."

His uncle nodded in affirmation, a proud smile gracing his lips. "Exactly. Trust in your ability, Noah. With each creation, you have the power to shape not only the physical world, but the emotional one as well."

With newfound clarity, Noah turned his focus back to Kaida, channeling his intentions and his will into the dragon with renewed determination. As they continued their airborne dance, he felt a deep connection forming between them, a bond forged through the power of creation and the strength of his own spirit.

Noah's voice rang out with a newfound determination, cutting through the chaos of the battle with a steely resolve. "Kaida, go fuck up that piece of metal," he commanded, his tone calm yet laced with a simmering intensity. "I am tired of always being scared."

Kaida halted abruptly, its massive form pivoting on a dime as it turned to face their mechanical adversary. With a powerful beat of its wings, the dragon surged forward, hurtling toward the mechanical monstrosity with unrestrained fury. Smoke billowed from its nostrils, the air crackling with energy as Kaida's throat began to glow with an intense heat.

Noah watched with a mix of anticipation and determination, his earlier apprehension replaced by a fierce resolve. The mechanical dragon, once a source of fear and uncertainty, now appeared as nothing more than a mere construct, a lifeless puppet waiting to be dismantled.

"It's just a piece of metal," Noah thought to himself, a sense of embarrassment washing over him as he reflected on his earlier fear. "Programmed to do whatever it was told to do."

As Kaida unleashed a torrent of golden energy, a beam of pure power that seared through the air with blinding intensity, Noah's confidence surged. "Finish him," he commanded, his voice steady and unwavering.

The mechanical dragon shuddered under the force of Kaida's assault, its once formidable form beginning to crumble and decay. Rust spread like a contagion, eating away at its metallic exterior until, with a final, deafening crash, it plummeted from the sky, crashing to the earth below in a cacophony of twisted metal and shattered dreams.

Noah's heart swelled with a sense of liberation, a weight lifted from his shoulders as he watched the wreckage below. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt truly free, unburdened by the specter of fear that had haunted him for so long. With Kaida by his side, he knew that nothing could stand in their way, not even the most formidable of foes.