My Best Friend's A Ghost

Garmadon

Since this is my final day of freedom before spring semester takes over my life, I'm giving y'all TWO new chapters for this story, starting with this one! 

Shoutout to my friend IRL for helping me with this chapter!

Hope y'all enjoy! :D

~~~~~

The black ninja was exceptionally unique, Garmadon was willing to admit.

He had only really taken notice when said ninja, along with the others, had started to train Lloyd (his son, The Green Ninja, the one who Garmadon had to fight if he wanted to rule Ninjago, the one Garmadon had to defeat even though he was still his son--). The black ninja's scar had given the dark lord pause, emitting a certain aura that Garmadon had no trouble placing.

The aura felt like death. It was subtle, much more so than that of the Underworld or even that of those in the Skeleton Army, but there. It seemed to be contained to just the black ninja (though sometimes, it seemed to grow in intensity and even move around, but it happened so infrequently that Garmadon often dismissed it.), so the dark lord just made a note of it and otherwise didn't pay attention to it.

Until Lloyd started emitting the same aura.

It was smaller than that of the black ninja, but it still startled Garmadon when he first noticed it. Then it spread to the red ninja and blue ninja. The more-concentrated version, once irregular, suddenly became more frequent and more active, though it still stuck close to the ninja. During the last battle with the ninja, Garmadon had noticed that the aura had spread to the strange white ninja and the more-concentrated version was its most active yet.

If Garmadon were to guess, he would have assumed that there was....someone or something helping the ninja. Why this person had such a deathly aura about them, the dark lord did not know. He dismissed this line of thinking, however.

An invisible ally of the ninja? Please.

He started reconsidering that, however, the day the Final Battle was supposed to commence, when the Stone Warriors started fighting with an empty space.

It was the dawn of the Final Battle. He and the Overlord were getting the last few things ready when the Stone Warriors brought forth the prisoner.

Or, prisoners, if the small group apparently wrestling with an empty space was anything to go by.

"What is the meaning of this?" Garmadon demanded, stalking up to the group. "We're in the end stages of preparation and you all decide you'd rather air wrestle?!"

The Stone Warriors growled out something in their odd tongue, seemingly ignoring him.

Garmadon scowled, wondering for perhaps the thousandth time whether or not these Warriors' brains were made of Stone as well. Before he could try and break them up, he heard the (admittedly disturbing) sound of the Overlord laughing.

"What's thisss? A Lord of the Underworld that cannot sense deathhhhh?" It mocked, coming to float next to Garmadon. "You suuuurprise me, Garmadon..."

"Of course I can sense the aura of death!" Garmadon snapped. "I fail to see how that is relevant here!..."

The dark lord paused, frowning as he thought he felt said aura for a brief moment. But when he turned his head to look where the feeling had come from, there was nothing there.

The Overlord laughed again. "Your senses are weaaaaak...A resssstlessssss spirit is among usssss...."

"A...restless spirit? Do...do you mean a ghost?!" Garmadon scoffed. "Impossible! Ghosts can only be found in the Departed Realm or the Cursed Realm. Everyone knows that!"