A/N: Quick note before we begin: As you've probably already guessed, Pixal is going to come in before she should technically exist. Right now Cyrus's company isn't nearly as big as in the show since the whole Final Battle and aftermath haven't happened yet. But, we're just going to pretend that he's made Pixal anyway. I'm sure you all understand though, because it's for the greater good of the story, aka the D R A M A.

For the most part I try to keep my story as close to the original show as possible, but every once in a while there are things like this that I've had to change to make this work. I also de-powered Skylor a bit, but we'll go over that next week. For now, enjoy this new chapter!

. . . 

Seliel took a deep breath. She'd reached the gates of the monastery where Garmadon had sent her – he left her at the base of the mountain, somethingabout having to find "others" – but Seliel still had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she never should have left home. Stop being such a scaredy-cat! she scolded herself. This was the first time she'd been this far away from her village, and Garmadon had made it clear that there was no telling how long she would be gone. Her emotions kept flipping from excited to terrified, and now she was starting to regret agreeing to help. She hated to admit that something as simple as leaving home bothered her so much.

Overhead, the sun was reaching its peak, but a few small gray clouds had formed, as if a storm was growing. Perhaps it would be a good idea to get inside before it started raining. Finally, Seliel mustered the strength to stop stalling and knocked on the monastery doors. She waited patiently until one door slid open a crack and a boy poked his head out, wide green eyes staring up at her curiously.

"Oh, hi." She gave him a small wave. Garmadon had mentioned he had a son. However, based on what she'd been told, she was surprised at how young he looked.

The boy narrowed his eyes. "What's the password?"

"I wasn't told there was a password," Seliel said, a little suspicious. She couldn't tell if he was serious or if he was just messing with her.

"What are you here for?" he pressed.

"Garmadon sent me. You know, to master my element and become a ninja."

The boy frowned, apparently displeased. "Another girl?"

Seliel chuckled. "Sorry, kid. Better luck next time?"

He opened the door wider. "Mom and Nya are over there practicing. But I'd keep my distance if I were you. And fine someplace dry." Then he dashed off.

Seliel followed at a slower pace and found a wide, courtyard ringed on one side by the monastery building, and by the wall on the other. Across the empty space, two women stood surrounded by barrels. The younger girl looked to be about Seliel's age, or perhaps a bit younger, and her eyes were closed in concentration, her brow glistening with sweat. She held her arms out, and it looked as if she were straining to push her way through open air. The older woman was giving her instruction, and as Seliel drew closer, she could make out what they were saying.

"Don't be so stiff, Nya. You have to be calm and fluid. The harder you try, the more difficult it will be."

The other girl, Nya, finally relaxed with a heavy sigh. "I can't do it! How am I supposed to try without really trying? All the physical training I don't have a problem with. But, I don't know. . . maybe elemental powers can skip a generation."

"Nonsense, Nya! You've already made it rain, but just because you haven't moved the water in the barrels you think you're a failure?" True enough, one glance around the monastery showed that there had been a small sprinkling earlier.

"Well maybe all that rain was just a coincidence. Right now that seems to be the more likely explanation."

The older woman put a hand on Nya's shoulder and said gently, "Don't give up on yourself just yet. Remember, your brother still needs you." Nya's face fell, but before she could say anything, the older woman redirected her attention. "But now your training must end for the day. It looks as if we have a guest."

Nya blinked in surprise, apparently just noticing the newcomer. Seliel had been listening patiently for a chance to cut in and introduce herself, and was grateful now to be noticed. "Hi. I'm Seliel. Garmadon sent me." She offered her hand.

"Nya," said the girl, shaking Seliel's hand with a firm grip. "It will be nice to have someone else to train with. Someone else my own age," she said pointedly. She threw a half smile at the boy who now sat under the shelter of the monastery's deck, his nose in a comic book, but he didn't seem to hear her.

"That's Lloyd over there. And this is Misako," Nya continued. The older woman's hair was tied into a braid, out of the way. Her smile was kind, and her green eyes shone from behind a pair of glasses. From the looks of her, Seliel was a little surprised to know that she was a fighter.

"She's the one who will teach you about your element," Nya explained. "Hopefully you'll have more luck than me," she said looking around at the barrels which Seliel could now see were full of water. "So what is your element?"

"Teleportation," Seliel answered, the word still feeling strange on her tongue. Powers like theirs had always been a part of fairytales, nothing more. It felt strange for Seliel to claim that she could teleport, too, even though she'd never done it before.

Nya gave her a funny look. "I didn't know teleportation was an element."

Beside her, Misako chuckled. "The elements have become less strictly defined over the years. Through each generation, there are occasionally descendants of the original masters who develop unique elemental abilities."

"Just how many elemental masters are there?" Seliel wondered.

"More than you ever realized," said Misako. "But that's a story for another time. It's getting late, and I'm sure you must be tired from your journey."

Nya brightened. "Come on, I'll show you our room." 

As Nya led Seliel inside, Misako watched them go with a pained expression, wondering how it had come to this. Try as she might, she hadn't been able to make peace with the idea of taking these girls from their homes and training them to fight this war with her. What she wouldn't give for them all to have a normal life.

"They better not all be girls." Lloyd cut into Misako's thoughts, surprising her. She glanced over at her son and, seeing his troubled face, couldn't help but laugh.

"What? I'm really outnumbered here!"

. . . 

Pixal looked out the window of Mr. Borg's office, watching the tiny dots of people swarming through the streets below. It was early morning, so most of them were likely on their way to their respective jobs. She liked studying people from up here in Mr. Borg's little office. It gave her a chance to learn from humans in their most natural state.

Pixal tilted her head to one side, trying to imagine suitable comparison for them. Comparisons, or metaphors, could be difficult to fabricate, but the exercise helped her to make connections she wouldn't otherwise notice and extend the parameters of her logic so that she could think like and understand humans much better.

She decided that the people below looked much like a colony of ants, hard at work. The streets were like tunnels, the city their anthill. They were hard-working and efficient, and capable of carrying much more responsibility than one would think.

The sudden chime of a telephone brought Pixal's mind out of the abstract and back to the concrete. She turned as Mr. Borg answered it from behind his desk. "Hello? Yes, good send him in." He set the phone back onto the receiver as he said to Pixal. "He's here."

Of course she had already deduced this through context, but she also knew that people would often speak more than necessary to reassure themselves, and it had become clear that something was troubling Mr. Borg. The best course of action would be to continue a dialogue in order to further reassure him. "Rest assured, I am confident that we have made the right choice, and that Garmadon will prove to be a very capable teacher."

Mr. Borg nodded. And yet, she could see that he was still not at ease. "You will contact me often?" he asked.

"Of course. As often as you like: hourly, daily, weekly, biweekly –" He chuckled, though she hadn't meant to be funny. Even so, it was nice to see some of the tension lift off him.

"It doesn't have to be quite so frequent, or even consistent for that matter. Perhaps whenever the urge strikes you. Though hourly may be a bit excessive." He turned towards her slightly, though the action wasn't very convenient for him in his wheelchair. "I'm sure you'll be busy with your new friends, learning about your abilities and fighting evil. Just . . . tell me when you learn something new about yourself. I always like to hear what you discover, especially from your perspective."

"I'm sure it will be beneficial to your AI studies," she answered.

Again, Cyrus chuckled and his face brightened just enough to make it genuine.

Across the room, the door opened and Pixal moved to her usual position beside Mr. Borg . The man who entered had hair that was the lustrous gray of humans, much like her own silver locks, though his signified age as much as the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes. He walked with a staff, though not as a crutch, not as if he needed it, perhaps more of a weapon than a tool. He stood tall and walked steadily, the picture of health for one his age, most likely a result of the years he spent training. However, further examination would surely reveal many weaknesses as a result of the years he spent in battle, as well.

"Welcome, Garmadon," Cyrus was saying. "It is an honor to have you here."

"The honor is all mine," he responded, his tone light and gentle.

"This is Pixal." As Cyrus gestured to her, Pixal bowed slightly. "We have been very excited, ever since you told us your story. It seemed there wasn't a doubt in her mind that she should be joining you."

The sensei bowed in return. "I'm glad she accepted. And I'm grateful to you, Cyrus, for letting her go. We need all the help we can get. And I think that Pixal's strength will come in very handy."

"I've always tried to make it clear to Pixal that she is free to go where she wants. She's been very helpful as my assistant, but if her heart is leading her to save the world, then I won't stand in her way."

Pixal had the urge to remind them that she had no heart, but then decided that they probably wouldn't be very interested to hear it.

"We did some tests last night," Cyrus continued, "after you contacted me, in order to see if she had really received the elemental power you talked about. You were right, of course, but more than that, it seems that Pixal's . . . unique physiology has given her additional abilities."

Cyrus Borg's ancestors were the Masters of Magnetism. Pixal would have thought that "Master of Polarity" would be a more apt title, but she was a decades too late to fix that. This revelation had apparently been lost to time, so that Cyrus had no knowledge of it until Garmadon had called searching for a student. When Cyrus had explained that he had no children, only a sentient AI of his own creation, Garmadon seemed to believe that Pixal herself would have inherited the element of his bloodline.

Though Garmadon did not know science and technology very well, he seemed to have a strong understanding of the mechanics behind these "powers," and after much discussion, he and Cyrus had agreed that Pixal had the potential to be an Elemental Master. Pixal, however, had had a difficult time wrapping her digital mind around such possibilities. In the end, she reassured herself that it simply didn't make sense because so little research had been done on the Elemental Masters and their abilities. Perhaps by becoming one of them, she would have a chance to study and learn more about them.

When Cyrus had asked for her opinion, she had determined that there would be no use in her existing with such abilities – which was something of a miracle, in itself– and not using them to her full extent to do the most she could with what she had been given. It was her job to be useful and help people, and this seemed like the best way to do it.

Cyrus sighed. "I suppose it's time for you to get going. From what you told me, Garmadon, it doesn't sound like you have much time to spare."

Pixal turned to Cyrus, briefly unsure of herself. Then she bent down and hugged him, her emotions suddenly taking over, as if it was only just now that she realized what it would mean to be separated from him. To go to a new place beyond the boundaries of Ninjago City, to go to a new world beyond the explanation of science.

"I will . . . miss you," she said.

"I'll miss you, too," he answered, squeezing her tight. When she pulled away, he hastily wiped a tear away, though he couldn't hide it, not from her. "You should get going. Go, and make me proud!"

Pixal smiled. "I will do my best, Mr. Borg."

"That's all I could ask for."

She took a deep breath, let it out with all the resolution inside of her, and turned to Garmadon. He led her to the exit, and as the door shut behind her she glimpsed at her creator's face one last time, wondering how long it would be until she saw him again.