It has been a long time.
So long that even I have lost count of the years—but time means little to a wizard who studies eternity itself. What matters is that the inevitable has finally occurred.
The First Spinjitzu Master is dead.
The moment I felt his presence vanish from the world, a weight I had carried for centuries lifted from my shoulders. His watchful eye, his quiet interference, his meddling balance—all of it gone. I laughed, the sound echoing through my base as arcane lights flared around me.
At last… freedom.
With Wu and Garmadon still so young—barely more than echoes of what they would one day become—and the Elemental Masters not yet united, the world lay open before me. Untouched. Unprotected.
Perfect.
I relocated shortly after, choosing a remote mountain territory far from prying eyes. Snow-covered plains stretched endlessly beneath storm-dark skies as I stood alone at the center of it all. From within my cloak, I withdrew a small object—unassuming, delicate.
A snow globe.
Inside it rested my castle.
I dropped it.
The moment it struck the ground, the world answered. The earth screamed as molten lava burst forth, splitting the land open in violent cracks. Fire surged outward in every direction, devouring snow, stone, and soil alike. The plains melted into rivers of magma as my castle rose from beneath the surface—black obsidian towers climbing skyward, chained by glowing runes and crowned with infernal light.
The Lava Lands were born.
Only then did I allow myself to summon my forces.
I began with Lord Krakenskull.
My staff struck the ground once, and the air tore open. From the rift marched Krakenskull and his skeletal army, their armor clattering as green fire burned within their hollow eyes. He knelt immediately, bowing his horned skull low.
I commanded him to claim my territory—to bring it under absolute control. Any people foolish enough to remain would serve. Labor, resources, knowledge—everything would be mine.
Next, I summoned my lieutenant.
Stone Clay emerged from the summoning circle like a living statue, his massive form cracking as he straightened. Loyal. Silent. Unbreakable. He would enforce my will where subtlety was unnecessary.
Then came Ruina Stoneheart—her presence heavy with ancient malice—as well as General Garg and his gargoyle army, their wings unfolding as they perched along my castle's spires like living battlements.
One by one, they answered.
Reex.Roog.Rumble.
My stern warriors marched forth in disciplined ranks. Dozens of stone Grimrock rose from the lava itself, magma dripping from their fists as they roared their allegiance. The Rogul followed soon after, shadows bending around their forms as they faded into position across the land.
My army had returned.
And deep within my base, far from the chaos above, I glanced toward the reinforced containment chamber—the pet tank I had constructed years ago.
Inside it, coiled peacefully, was my newest acquisition.
A baby snake.
Small. Harmless-looking.
The First Devourer.
The serpent that could one day consume the world lay curled beneath enchanted glass, its eyes glowing faintly as it slept. I had found it during my magical research—an impossibility reborn, reduced to infancy.
I smiled.
I was not foolish enough to rush its growth. What kind of wizard empowers a creature before ensuring its loyalty? No… first came control. Bonding. Understanding.
Power is best shaped patiently.
With the First Spinjitzu Master gone, my enemies unprepared, and my dominion established, the world had entered a new era.
And it would learn my name soon enough.