Chapter Text
The monastery was quieter than it should’ve been. Tea cups steamed on the table, rain tapped against the roof, and six ninja found six different ways to avoid looking at the seventh.
Morro wrapped his hands around his mug. The warmth felt… strange. Too solid. Too real. He hadn’t held anything like this in years. He hated that they were all watching him discover it.
“Sooo,” Jay said finally, stretching the word out like it could build a bridge across the silence. “Still weird being… y’know. Alive?”
Nya shot him a look, but Morro only shrugged. “Weirder that you keep staring.”
Kai snorted. “Yeah, he’s got a point.” They met each other’s gaze, seeing eye to eye in more ways than one— and when they both muttered, “Don’t get used to it,” at the same time, the table groaned.
Lloyd stood so abruptly his chair scraped. “I’ll check supplies,” he muttered, and walked out.
Morro watched him go, guilt gnawing at his chest. He’d said sorry fifteen times already. Apologies weren’t enough, and he knew it. But what else could he offer the boy he’d possessed, the boy who’d beaten him, the boy he hated for so many years of his life, without ever having even met him?
Cole cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “So… tea’s good.”
The others murmured agreement, though none of them drank.
Only Zane sipped calmly, as if the awkwardness wasn’t thick enough to choke on. His calm eyes flicked to Morro. “You are adjusting well. That is promising.”
Morro blinked at him. “Promising… what?”
“That you are not collapsing from sensory overload,” Zane replied in perfect seriousness. “One could hypothesize that revival can be disorienting.”
Jay choked on a laugh. “Leave it to Zane to make it sound like you’re a science experiment.”
“Am I wrong?” Zane asked, tilting his head.
Morro set his mug down too carefully, his throat tight. “Not… entirely.”
Before anyone could answer, the heavy tap of a staff echoed through the hall. Wu stood at the doorway, his expression as unreadable as ever.
“There has been a disturbance,” Sensei Wu said. Morro had almost forgotten how the old master’s voice could carry through the room like a cold wind. “Reports speak of a land stirring where no living foot should tread. The Land of Forgotten Souls has awakened.”
The ninja straightened immediately, but Morro froze. The name alone was enough to make his chest tighten, memories clawing at the edges of his mind. For an elemental master of wind, he had a hard time filling enough air in his lungs.
Kai frowned. “What kind of disturbance are we talking about?”
“Whispers of an artifact. Spirits gathering. The boundary weakens.” Wu’s gaze swept the table before settling on Morro. “Someone with knowledge of its paths must go.”
Everyone followed his eyes.
Morro’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t expected this. Not now. Not so soon. “I… know the way,” he admitted, hating how small his voice sounded. “I’ve been there before.”
The table went silent again. This time it wasn’t awkwardness. It was fear.
“You can’t be serious,” Jay shrieked, glaring at Wu. “You want him to lead us back into some cursed death trap?”
Wu’s voice was firm. “Not to lead. To guide. There is a difference. Without Morro, you will not find your way.”
Lloyd’s voice carried from the doorway — he hadn’t gone far after all. His expression was shadowed, unreadable. “And what if he’s lying?”
Morro flinched. The sting was sharp because he deserved it. “I’m not,” he said quickly, almost desperate. “I swear, I’m not. You think I want to go back there?”
For a moment, no one spoke. Rain hammered against the roof, as if waiting for the answer too.
Finally, Wu lifted his staff. “Then it is decided. At dawn, you leave for the Land of Forgotten Souls. Together.”
Morro felt six sets of eyes on him again. Only this time, they weren’t just watching him discover what it meant to be alive. They were watching to see if he would prove he deserved to stay that way.