The world was shifting, the new generation of Ninja scrambling to adapt to Wu's sacrifice and the chaos surrounding the golden weapons. But I had other matters—matters that promised far greater power than any fledgling elemental master could ever hope to wield.
I arrived at the monastery under the cloak of shadow, my shape-shifting magic ensuring I was indistinguishable from any other monk wandering the halls. Every step was deliberate, every motion precise. My goal: Wu's staff—the Staff of the First Spinjitsu Master. The staff held more than mere physical power; it contained secrets, ancient enchantments, and hidden messages meant for only the Master.
I entered the chamber where it rested, my senses alert. A glance confirmed its position: standing alone on its pedestal, humming softly with latent power. I extended my hand, drawing a spell of replacement and duplication. The staff shimmered briefly in my grasp as I conjured an identical replica, leaving it in its place. Any casual observer—or even a careful scholar—would never know the difference.
The real staff, now in my possession, thrummed with latent energy. I examined it carefully. A map, encoded with spells of protection, wound along its surface, guiding the worthy to the tomb of the First Spinjitsu Master. I traced the hidden sigils with my fingers, activating a subtle spell to copy the entire map into my magical memory. Every curve, every channel, every magical ward embedded in the staff was stored in my mind.
Teleportation followed immediately. In a shimmer of shadowed magic, I returned to my castle, my lair in the Lava Lands. There, I worked quickly, using my magic to extract a copy of the secret message on the staff. It was intricate, cryptic, layered with protective enchantments, but none could resist my touch. The first two keys had already been claimed; now, I needed only the final piece: the tomb beneath the Endless Sea.
I paused, floating slightly above my chamber floor, letting the magnitude of what I was about to do sink in. Beneath the Endless Sea lay the resting place of the First Spinjitsu Master—a place no mortal or even skilled elemental master could hope to access without guidance. And yet, I held that guidance now in my mind: the map, the staff, and my centuries of magical expertise.
I smiled, a small, calculating curl of my lips. "Easier than I thought," I whispered to myself. With a final glance at my reflection in the obsidian floor, I began preparing for the journey to acquire the Realm Crystal.
This would not be simple. The tomb would be guarded, enchanted, and hidden from the eyes of the unworthy. But I was no ordinary being. I was a wizard, a half-Oni, a master of forbidden magic and elemental power, with armies at my disposal and centuries of experience.
I gathered my tools: spells of protection, teleportation, and water manipulation. I summoned several of my stone soldiers, infused with Vengestone resilience, to serve as both diversions and guardians while I retrieved the crystal.
With everything in place, I cast a portal spell directly to the coordinates indicated on the map. The air shimmered, the space bending under the weight of my power. With a surge of magical energy, I stepped through, leaving my castle and the Lava Lands behind.
The Endless Sea stretched before me, vast and unbroken, the waves whispering of long-forgotten dangers. Below its surface, I could already sense the magic of the tomb, faint but unmistakable, humming in anticipation. The Realm Crystal awaited, and I intended to claim it.
Every step, every spell, every preparation had been meticulously planned. The new generation of Ninja might be stumbling, learning, and growing, but I had already surpassed them in power, in knowledge, and in foresight.
The tomb, the crystal, the ultimate secrets of the First Spinjitsu Master—they would all be mine. And when I claimed them, the balance of power in Ninjago would shift irrevocably.
I took a deep breath, letting the purple flames of my Oni aura flare briefly around me. The world was mine to manipulate. The future was mine to write.
And nothing—not Wu, not the Ninja, not Garmadon, nor even the Endless Sea itself—would stop me.
With that, I dove.
The waves swallowed me, and my form shimmered as I descended into the depths, following the map to the tomb that had been hidden for centuries. The Realm Crystal awaited, and I would emerge victorious.
Ninjago's history would remember the rise of the new generation—but it would also remember the shadow that lurked beneath the waves, unstoppable and eternal.