to rule the world | a ninjago au

[33] i mean this was necessary. all of it. fun times yeah?

Before the very explosive death of the Great Devourer, the following events took place:

astra

Blood pooled around her feet, rippling as she cut through the soldiers in front of her. The first few ranks of puny recruits fell easily to her blade, singing in harmony with the adrenaline in her ears. To her right, Zane and Jay widened their advance through the south gate. Zane's ice spears plunged ahead, creating a path straight to the gold-plated Elite soldiers protecting Morro's gang.

"Find Forge and Arete!" Astra shouted, sheathing her katana to nock an arrow and fire it through the helmet of some random soldier. "I'll handle his princess squad. Get to the weapons."

Zane nodded, and Jay let loose a web of lightning, diverting their path to the right of the courtyard. Blood trickled down her eyes, swept away by her arm. Astra readjusted her stance as the Elite approached. They knew her. They knew what she could do. She just had to hold all eight of them off long enough for the Firsties to break past Morro's line of defence.

Hold them off? The echoing voice that always followed her scoffed, with what mercy?

Astra strapped her crossbow to her back. She could feel her powers yearning to be set free, straining against the wall she'd pushed it behind. It ached for the bodies and the bones and the blood around her. But she shoved it back, deep down to burn with everything else she'd ignored for the past months, locked away the voice that crooned for the violence she was about to shed.

Astra raised her sword, and met the first Elite with a spinning attack. It caught them off guard, knocking their balance off. They recovered quickly, slamming one of their long daggers into the cracked ground of the Monastery courtyard to stop their spin. The second came slicing in just as fast, knocked aside with a brutal kick to the ribs. She hissed as the third's blade nicked the spot between the armour plates on her sword arm, and retaliated with a metal tipped arrow through their throat. She spun back to meet the first soldier, ducked to avoid the crossed daggers and swung dirty for the tendons on the back of their feet, drowning their howl of pain by clashing blades with the second Elite's katana.

Gasping for breath, she rolled beneath another flurry of swords, hiding the wince when one of the blades caught her in the leg. She staggered to her feet and raised her katana again as another round of hell unleashed itself on her; as she blocked out her team's shouts, Morro's bursts of wind, Tox's second blast of poison. Astra flipped her katana to counter the second's strike, plunging her smaller dagger into their stomach and twisting it for good measure. She broke free, darting away from the next attack to stick her dagger into a wooden post, using it to kick up into the next Elite's nose. Her powers surged for a second when she snapped their neck, sensing death fill their body and consume it.

"Fuck." she bit down on her tongue, tasting blood and pain as another Elite landed a slash across her stomach, gold blade slicing through the skin. Instead of flinching back, she pulled the soldier closer to her, locked her foot around their leg and flipped them on their back, skewering them with her katana. Hands slick with blood, she wiped them clean on their white and gold uniform, staring at the marred fabric as her stomach flipped before the sixth Elite came for her. She dropped her kanata. Gripping her dagger in her left hand, she turned behind the soldier at the last second, sweeping her leg around to drop them to the ground.

Astra didn't bother with anything fancier than a simple cut to the neck. The last two Elite barreled for her at the same time, swords out. She grabbed one of her exploding arrows, flicking the timer manually to set it off as fast as possible. Chucking it at the soldier on the left, she dove for the right one, throwing all her weight behind her tackle. They scuffled on the ground, rolling as she tried to push her weight onto their juglar. The Elite had the size advantage though, and the helmet stretched below their uniform to cover their throat. Cursing, Amara threw herself to the side, landing in a crouch to reassess the situation. The other soldier had discarded the bomb, flicked it into one of the monastery's walls and left it crumbling. They advanced on the same count again, determined to face her together.