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When Garmadon was 10 years old he was bitten by the Great Devourer.
He was different after that; something fundamentally separate.
When the poison infected him, he became resentful and furious at everything. To this day, Garmadon can not tell if those feelings were his own or the venom’s.
He can barely tell now; because at what point does he get to take responsibility. How could it all not be his fault? When he was a child, it was always, ‘He didn’t really mean it, it’s not his fault’.
And eventually their opinions warped his mind to believe that nothing was his fault. That he was a just passenger in his own body; watching the chaos he so badly craved. It was easier to live that way.
He didn’t yell at his dying father, he didn’t turn away in rage from his younger brother, he didn’t run away from his only child because he was a coward.
No- Garmadon did none of those things; he's just the depraved vessel that's inhabited by an incurable evil. Right?
Then he has these brief moments in time where he’s not overwhelmed by the feelings of passionate and frenzied rage. And in those moments he’s brought back to the present. One could almost call them ‘episodes’ only to the opposite degree.
But no matter how many times this happens, Garmadon always manages to feel surprised at himself. At how deep the anger goes and what he has done to satiate it’s thirst. And no matter how much he wants them to last they all end eventually.
Sometimes he almost wishes that he didn’t have those moments at all; that he was always swept away by outrage, leaving no room for him to feel regret.
Then it might be easier to breathe… easier to look his child in the face. His only son, Lloyd, abandoned by him and his cowardice. Maybe it was for the best, that he was never corrupted by Garmadon’s evil? But his son was alone? Where was Misako? Now he supposes it doesn’t really matter; simply another tally mark to add to his list of offenses. He’ll ask later.
Right now Garmadon is currently having one of those ‘episodes’. Where his reality is just a simple game of play pretend until corruption clouds his vision once again.
But now he’s on the bounty with his son and brother- and on good terms at that. Which is something Garmadon thought would never happen again. So for now he’ll ignore the ticking clock counting down in the back of his mind.
He could fix things! This is the chance he's dreamt of; one he's never wished aloud in case he jinxes it.
His son is ten years old! A lively little boy with a knack for the mischievous; it’s honestly refreshing to be next to him after years of his only company being skeletons or the occasional unruly ninja.
The little looks of admiration that Lloyd sends to Garmadon when he thinks he’s not looking are begrudgingly cute, and Garmadon can’t help but melt inwards whenever Lloyd stumbles on his words- too excited to think straight.
Garmadon is so close to being truly happy- he can feel it underneath his skin. If only he could count on spending the rest of his days with them; he could regain Misako’s trust, he could beg his brother for forgiveness, he could get to know the ninja that have taken Lloyd in as one of their own, he could watch Lloyd grow old.
When Garmadon closes his eyes, he can see an old house with two chairs by the front door, and he imagines Misako and him sitting and waving Lloyd goodbye as he heads off to school. He can almost see himself sitting next to his brother, pouring tea, and getting up embarrassingly slow to go off and teach the next generation.
But as he stands near his son- stricken with relief now that he’s safe after being kidnapped- he can’t help but feel a deep sense of unease. Things have been going too well, and if Garmadon knows anything with a certainty, it’s the reliability of fate coming to screw things over. But, he supposes, that’s not something to ponder over right now; his son is alive and well. No reason to bring the mood down.
When Garmadon shares a fond look with his brother over the ninja quarreling, he finally feels at ease. All of the apprehension and wound up tension leaves his body when he laughs with his son over a stupid joke. Maybe things really could change, finally he could make up for his misconduct.
But then the red ninja speaks and for a single moment Garmadon’s vision fades out. He doesn’t hear what is said next- not over the rushing static that fills his ears.
The green ninja?
No- that’s not possible. Not Lloyd. Not his son.
A golden glow blinds him as he stumbles back. The four weapons of Spinjitzu float before his son, illuminating his confused and uneasy face.
Garmadon feels something deep inside himself crack. A wave of exhaustion runs through his body as he stares at Lloyd. Every nice and soft thought he had from before crumbled to ashes before him. Garmadon cursed his lunacy; actually believing that destiny would skip his son in their generational curse.
How could he even allow himself to wish for better things as though all the pain he has caused was not from his own hands! No- this is payback for passing on the blame; for believing himself innocent in his reign of chaos.
No, now Garmadon knows that nothing good will ever happen to him and if he wants his son to live a happy life he must make every terrible action from now on his own. He’ll welcome the next spell of darkness with open arms and never wish for more; because those that wish for more are only cursed. If he dies a terrible person, it will be easier for his son to move on when he is gone.
Few words are spoken but many are passed through shared glances from across the room. As Garmadon sees the weariness in Wu’s eyes he tries to share that things will turn out just as destiny foretold. His son will defeat him and grow from it. He tries to pack one final goodbye into his gaze, but Garmadon can never be sure whether his brother understands him or not.
He can only hope he does, because this truly is his last goodbye- not in the physical sense but the next time his family sees him there will be nothing left; just a shell, a simple shadow.
The second that Lloyd was revealed as the green ninja, Garmadon was intimately familiar with his fate. He has lived his whole life pretending that he wasn’t truly evil- and maybe in another life he could've proved that he was not, but for now he would pretend that there’s nothing good left in him.
His vision begins to cloud and Garmadon welcomes the coldness that he once fought tirelessly against. A red lens now distorts the view of his son and he can only feel a small pang of sorrow amongst the crashing waves of resentment.
As his brother draws the battle lines between family once again, Garmadon can only feel an indescribable rage- or maybe it’s more of a devastated fatigue. Who knows.
All that he knows is that his son will pay for his foolishness.
But at least Garmadon knows that after it is all said and done, his son will grow to be an incredible person.