replaceable | zane j.

220 6 2
                                    

TW: Injuries, mentions of death

Zane's experiences in injuries. 

• • •

Nindroids can be fixed. 

Zane knows this all too well. Nindroids can be hurt, damaged, broken, hacked, but also fixed. They don't bleed out in ten minutes, they don't black out from pain, they don't drown, and they definitely don't die as easily as humans do. 

So, he doesn't mind sacrificing himself for his friends. Not really. The Overlord's power does, indeed, match his statistics, and is too much for his build to handle. 

And the pain is more than anything he could ever imagine, but Zane smiles through it anyway. He's doing this for his family, he reminds himself. Nothing else counts as a higher priority. 

Certainly not himself. 

 When he wakes up, the world around him has changed, And the ice cave is cold, colder than anything he's ever felt, but piece by piece, Zane learns to put himself back together. 

It's makeshift and a little broken around the edges, but the important thing is that he functions. Zane can fix himself later. 

It doesn't matter. 

And when he makes it back, he fixes himself quietly, selecting not to mention the fails and cracks in his programming to Jay. It's not that complicated, and a few weeks finish the job quietly. 

He doesn't think twice, diving in front of blows and violent throws without a second thought for his teammates, brushing away their worried questions after. They don't damage him, not really.

He remembers almost accidentally shutting himself off, once. The lights flicker and bust in his room, flooding his room in weak fluttering light. He flips open his chest plate in a experienced move, and pulls out a damaged cut wire, reaching for a different new one. 

The line springs with electricity, running through his fingers, and his vision fades to black for a terrifying moment. The wires bounces harmlessly to the ground, and Zane stares at the wall for a second, steadying his thoughts. 

He's fine. The wire did not do anything permanently damage. He wraps it in a soft scrap of tissue warily, at arm's length, and throws it into the garbage, continuing his repair. 

He almost forgets the experience entirely, but some remembrance of it still lingers in his brain whenever he starts a new manual overhaul by himself. 

And the next time he really almost regrets taking a hit, is when he accidentally takes the glowing violet flash, meant for Master Wu, and is dropped into another frozen wasteland. His arm tingles with energy, and he shakes it off, still wincing from the powerful blast. He shivers, looking around, and is reminded eerily of the last time he was surrounded by snow white crystals. 

A heavy crash sounds behind him, and a mech falls into the realm, narrowly missing him.

After that, the memories are a blur of programming and fixing mending the extremely damaged robot, day after day. Then he blinks, and it's been sixty years, and he's missed them all.  Zane isn't sure how fine he is after this time, but he ignores the painful tugging at his chest. 

The staff falls from his grip, and scarlet warnings wink into existence and flash in his display, warning him of broken pieces, missed updates, failing engines, an interrupted reboot. His power is drained— no, returned to normal after so long of pulling energy from the forbidden energy. 

After decades of being frozen to a staff, his joints rust away and his internal works no longer run as smooth as they used too. Jay mends everything the second the return to Ninjago City, barely giving Zane time to say hello to others before he gets hustled away to the engine room. 

It's nice, having someone restore him for once, instead of spending dark nights in his room struggling over tangled wires and jumping sparks. 

And the next time is ages away, when his arm appears to be the only thing fitting to be a piece. He detaches it without a second thought, tearing away the sleeve of his uniform raggedly. Someone gasps in shock distantly behind him, but he assembles it in clumsily with his remaining hand. 

One arm. He can deal with it. Spares exist back home, but their lives are one and only. 

And the next time? Zane wonders if he'll keep taking hits until he breaks. It's a fitting way to go; a honorable one, saving someone else. He decides he doesn't really mind it, anyway.

 Why stop now?

He's replaceable, and he'll always be. 


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