Wisps: Recollection (Ninjago X Reader)

39. Enkrypted

You scratched at the cut on your cheek, layering the previous one you can't even remember from where. A random town folk threw a jagged rock at you when you were loaded off the bus with the Ninja. You dug deeper, the sting somewhat therapeutic, distracting- you scraped too deep and withdrew, cuffs rattling. 'Fucking bitch.' You quit picking at it, blood underneath your nail.

"You shouldn't scratch at your wound. It has been two days, and it worryingly appears fresh." Static vibrated, Zane nodding his head to what Pixel spouted like you weren't aware of infections.

"Did your reboot system fail when Ronin hacked you or something?"

"...I do not have a backup system in my data storage anymore."

"Why not?" He drew nearer to you, and a feral inmate gnarred at him. They all sprang up from your table and crowded Zane.

"What do ya thunk you're doing?! I haven't seen you around our leader!" Your "hypeman" - as he so declared himself - stabbed his finger into Zane's shoulder. "Getting close to the one! The only-!"

"Guys, back off. He's fine." You grounded out. "Go to another table, I want time to myself."

"Yes, Boss." They responded with the energy of a death cult and they hailed you as the bringer of apocalyptic promise. Just peachy.

'What have I even started?' Zane took his seat across from you after they all left. You cleared your throat and the awkwardness. "You didn't answer."

"Oh!" Pixel went back on track. "Let's see, I found out a month ago that my backup was missing- as if tampered with. Although I would've fixed it right away, I wanted to try something."

The pause surged.

"I want to be deeper in touch with my humanity."

"That's stupid." You struck a nerve, an electric circuit.

"...So it is, but I want to do this-"

"Why?" You leaned over the table, so Pixel caught on to each word you spoke. "What if something goes wrong? You have no back-up– Not even Borg?"

"Borg only has the blueprint to create another corporal body and basic coding. He did not give me the gift of sentience..." Her static calmed, soothing in its mellow tune towards you. How was she so calm saying that? It didn't at all soothe you... "Are you worried?"

'I shouldn't be.' Those days should be long gone and turned to ash. "You didn't answer why."

"I want to understand you." The features Zane had carefully sculpted to his face seemed sadder. Pained in a different way from Pixal's voice.

"...whatever you're doing isn't how."

"How is that so?" Pixal asked, at odd with such a vague answer. "Isn't the fragility of life and the emotions that come with it–"

"Pixal, I lost someone. It's as simple as that..." You finally let that linger in the loud, chattering air of this prison. It is as simple as that in this grand, shitty scheme of things. But the longer it lingers, the longer it soaks and wilts you, salting the wounds you have for him. Their enemy you fought for. They wouldn't understand. You wouldn't ask for that either. "So, stop whatever you're doing, it's not helping you."

"...I suppose you're right. I'll find something else." She said with such conviction, confusing your little inner spiel. And the silence from her rang through both you and Zane. You meet his eyes, a brief softness in them.

"Thank you for convincing her."

"You couldn't?" Quiet coated the air thick; Zane bit his inner lip, the fake skin stretching, waiting to tear at the slightest tug. "What?"