Ninjago: Where Heroes Come From

Chapter Four: The Call To Service

Kanomo was lying on her side, her hands bound behind her back with thick, coarse ropes that bit into her skin with each movement, a thin piece of cloth stuffed in her mouth and tied at the back of her head. She lay still, listening to the voices that surrounded her, trying to figure out what they were talking about, and more importantly, if they were talking about her.

After stripping her of her weapons and taking a few minutes to gloat, Vi and Killow had tied her up and led her through the streets, taking the back roads and making sure not to be seen (which meant killing all the bystanders who saw them) until they reached their destination, which turned out to be a group of motorcyclists dressed in black with masks that concealed half of their faces. Kanomo had been loaded onto the back of the biggest bike, belonging to Killow, and told that if she fell of the back, she should pray that somebody found her before she was run over and made into a meal for the buzzards. With this cheery thought hanging over her head, she lay uselessly on the bike for the entire trip, being bumped and jostled and panicking whenever she felt herself lifted off the seat, her body threatening to roll right off the bike. They reached the end before she fell of, thankfully, although when Kanomo saw where she were she began wishing she had  fallen off.

The Sons of Garmadon, as they called themselves, had made their base camp in the middle of nowhere, inside a sizable cave that Kanomo recognized as one of her many hideouts from previous years on the run. The place had been raided by thieves, forcing her to move on, although it appeared that the Sons had done a fine job of converting it into their own home. It was well-fortified, with various long-range weapons positioned outside the entrance, six armoured guards standing watch, and within there appeared to be more. The cycles sputtered to a stop at the entrance, where they talked in hushed tones to the guards before apparently gaining clearance to go on. Once inside, they hauled Kanomo to her feet, dragging her through the winding tunnels until they came to a small prison cell, barely big enough to lay down in, and threw her inside.

This was where Kanomo lay now, listening desperately to the voices from outside her cell. It was difficult to make out all the words, but from the little that she could hear, she gathered that Vi and Killow were demanding some form of payment for her capture. Kanomo sighed and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. Their arguing didn't matter. She needed to find a way out of here.

The bars of the cell were thick, and too close together to hope to so much as reach a hand through. The rocks she lay on were rough, and if she rubbed them enough, the ropes would most likely fall away... she doubted it would do her much good, however, side from making her more comfortable.

Sighing through her gag, Kanomo began to rub. Pain bit into her wrist and she winced, trying to ignore it and keep going. She felt a trickle of blood running down her skin and as fresh wound opened, the ropes running down it and causing it to flare in pain.

It was about to be a long night.

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Jay Walker returned home at four in the afternoon, hot and tired and aching all over. His invention, for some reason, hadn't worked, but it had resulted in him almost plummeting to his death. He'd leaped from one rooftop to the other, using the wings to propel himself along, but they hadn't caught the wind and he'd nearly missed the roof. Only his long and desperate reach had saved him, and there he had dangled, clinging onto the rooftop for dear life, his useless wings hanging off his arms and acting as a dead weight that's threatened to send him plummeting to his untimely demise.

Luckily, he had been able to haul himself up (a lifetime of working with heavy tools and machinery had given him decent upper-body strength, if not skills with inventing) and he'd made his slow way down the stairs, grumbling to himself and cussing out his homemade wings. Once he reached the bottom, he had promptly began tearing them to shreds, depositing their sad remains in the nearest trash bin, gaining a few confused looks from passers by, and had finally gone to the bus station to make his way home.